The Notice
by BondSlave
Summary: Carlos wakes up to find a Notice, a Notice that dooms him to live through the worst day of his life. Cecil comforts and assures the upset scientists that everything will be alright; and secretly can't help but be grateful for that awful notice his precious perfect Carlos received. A Welcome to Nightvale Fanfiction.


**The Notice**

A Welcome to Nightvale Fan-Fiction

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Authors Note: Thanks goes to UnderdogAngel for beta reading this for me.

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It wasn't often that Carlos found himself in a bad mood; a confused or manic mood, but never a bad one. There was simply too much to keep him busy in Night Vale for him to fall into a bad mood. But, unfortunately, someone or something in Night Vale had noticed, and decided that it was his turn to be the single citizen in the worst of moods this dark, void-colored Sunday.

Upon waking up that morning-at what he assumed was seven a.m., seeing as none of the clocks in Night Vale actually worked-, he found a notice slipped under his door and resting on the hallway mat. He'd only recently moved from the basement beneath the lab to his own apartment; but it seemed that the shifty governmental officials weren't going to give him any time to settle in.  
Snatching up the notice, he began reading over it as he poured himself some orange juice. The notice stated that he'd been randomly selected to host all of the town's negative emotions and feelings and would do so for the next twelve hours. He'd shrugged it off, figured that it was just some silly thing. But, by the time he arrived at work, he was beginning to think that it was anything but silly.  
Carlos was having what was perhaps the worst day of his life. He'd ruined his breakfast of eggs, run out of hot water halfway through his shower, stubbed his toe while getting dressed, and, to top it all off, he'd been fifteen minutes late to work. Sitting down at his work table, he angrily grumbled under his breath as he peeked through the eyepiece of his microscope. He could hear the muttering of his co-workers, see them glancing at him through his peripheral. He knew that they were all talking about him. Snickering and muttering to each other. He really wished that they'd just screw off and focus on their work.

By noon, Carlos felt murderous. Six of his eight experiments had failed-two of which had exploded, staining his lab coat with a grape soda-like substance. He'd also come to notice, while walking to Big Ricco's Pizza place right next door, that everyone in Night Vale was in an exceptionally good mood. This, of course, only added to his frustrations.

After lunch, and upon returning to the lab, Carlos found that the rest of the staff had turned on the radio, and the 'Voice of Night Vale' was rolling through the lab with his lovely dulcet tones. Usually, Carlos wouldn't have minded the radio being on; he found that he enjoyed Cecil's radio show, even if it did cause him a bit of embarrassment. Today, however, it only grated on his nerves even more. He could hear in the radio host's voice that the host was indeed in high spirits, his voice shifting from it's lovely low tones to the hyper high pitched squawking.

"Santana, would you turn that garbage off?!" Carlos snapped, shoving his notebook off of his desk and sitting back down to study some cultures under his microscope.  
Santana blinked at him from her own work station, goggles covered in grime. She smiled awkwardly, glancing around at the other staff members. "Ha, good one Carlos."

Carlos' eyes narrowed at her. "Do I look like I'm joking? I want that crap off now, Santana, or I'll write you up for disrupting the work place!"  
The dark-haired, dark-skinned beauty pushed her goggles up to her forehead and reached over to turn off the radio. "Sorry, I just thought we could all use something to listen to," she said with a smile and a shrug that only made Carlos angrier at her lack of worry over being written up.

Later that evening, once he was off work, Carlos felt ready to drop dead. He clambered up the stairs of the apartment complex, barely paying attention to where his feet where taking him. By the time he came to a stop and looked up, he was surprised to find that he was standing outside of Cecil Baldwin's apartment. He blinked, confused, and glanced around. How'd he gotten there? Cecil lived four floors up and on the opposite side of the complex from Carlos.

"Carlos?" The scientist glanced towards the stairs to see the radio host just mounting the last step and turning to approach him. A smile was on the blond's face, but his lavender eyes showed concern. "Are you all right, Carlos? You look, well... To be honest, you look like hell," Cecil stated, looking apologetically at the slightly taller man. His purple eyes flickered over the other man's appearance, taking in the ruffled hair and stained lab coat. "I take that you're having a bad day?"

"The worst!" Carlos snapped, his voice a little tight. He was tired. He was exhausted, mentally and emotionally. He felt like he wanted to throw himself over the railing, or that he wanted Cecil to eat him. Both sounded like perfectly logical things to his confused mind. "First with the stubbing the toe, running out of shampoo, and I burned my damn eggs-" he hiccuped, his voice breaking slightly as a wave of hysteria crashed over him. He felt like he was drowning.  
Cecil's eyes widened and he put up his hands. "Carlos, calm down!"

"No! Don't tell me to calm down! Have you any idea what I've been through today? Hell! Okay?! I've been through hell! And all while you were enjoying yourself in your cushy radio station, talking with your damn sexy, attractive voice-"

"You think my voice is sexy?" Cecil asked, smiling, but he went unheard. His eyes widened as he spotted the first few tears glistening in the corners of the darker skinned man's eyes. "Oh, no, no, no don't cry. Please don't cry, Carlos," Cecil begged weakly.  
Carlos hiccuped as the tears spilled down his face and he slumped his shoulders. He felt like giving up. It just wasn't worth it. All of the mysteries that Night Vale had to offer weren't worth it. Nothing was worth it. "All because of a stupid notice," he hiccuped as Cecil gently grabbed his shoulders to keep his slightly swaying form steady.

The blond blinked and glanced at the shuddering scientist, his heart breaking slightly to see him so upset. But something tickled at the back of his mind at the other man's comment. He tilted his head as he tightened his grip on Carlos' shoulders. "Notice? What notice?"  
Carlos sniffled and glanced up at the blond before digging his hand into his pocket and pulling out a slightly crumpled and stained notice.  
Cecil took the piece of paper, smoothed it out as best he could, and read over it. A smile crossed his face as he shoved the notice into his own pocket and turned back to the weepy scientist. He rubbed his shoulders reassuringly. "Oh, Carlos. My sweet, poor Carlos. Is this silly little thing what's caused you're breakdown?" He wrapped an arm around the other's shoulder as he pulled out his apartment key and stuck it in the door. "Why don't you come on in and we'll have a nice hot cup of cocoa to calm you down?" Carlos hiccuped in response, and Cecil lead him inside, kicking the door shut behind them.

Cecil's apartment was sparsely furnished with just a simple slightly battered love seat; coffee table; and small, ancient-looking television set. The radio host sat his sniffling, broken, yet adorable-looking scientist on the love seat before crossing to the kitchen, which was cut off from the living room only by the kitchen counter. He rummaged around his cupboards for a few moments before pulling out two large blue mugs. Glancing into the fridge, he quickly slammed the door shut, an angry growl and hissing noise coming through the door.

"Uh, Carlos, would you mind your cocoa with water? I'm afraid my milk's gone bad," he said apologetically as he turned to the sink and fill up the mugs. He glanced towards the sofa to see the scientist shrug his shoulders and took that as consent.  
Once the cocoa was heated and mixed, he carried it over and set it down in front of Carlos. He squeezed onto the love seat with Carlos and had to forcibly stop himself from giggling. He'd rarely gotten to be so close to the scientist, and couldn't help but be just a little bit pleased that this circumstance had presented itself.

"Poor sweet Carlos," he purred, gently running his fingers through the scientist's hair. "It'll be all right, I promise. You may feel like it's the end right now, but, in just a few hours, you'll be back to your usual self." He smiled to himself when the dark-skinned man leaned into his hand and sniffled as he ran his fingers through the long luscious locks. He twirled the hair around his fingers contentedly, running his nails over the other man's scalp. "They should have known better, assigning you. They may say random selection, but it's never random. Not really. They should have known that you wouldn't be able to handle this; you're not originally from here, and this is a burden you shouldn't have to bear." He wrapped his arms around the other man's shoulders and let him rest against his chest.

"If I asked you, would you kill me?" Carlos asked, tilting his head back to look up at Cecil through watery dark eyes.  
Cecil chuckled and shook his head, running his fingers through the shorter waves of hair near the front of Carlos' forehead. "No, you don't really want me to kill you. Although you would make a perfect sacrifice," he said, smiling kindly down at the other man. "You're perfect, always," he praised with a sigh. "But these aren't really your emotions. You may think they are, but they're not."  
Carlos sniffled. "They're not?" he asked, biting his lip slightly.  
Cecil shook his head. "No, they're not. Just stay here, relax, let me take care of you. And soon you'll be feeling one-hundred percent better, I promise."  
Carlos sniffled again and nodded. "Okay."  
"Would you like your cocoa now?" Cecil inquired gently.  
Carlos shook his head. "Not right now. ...Would you please keep playing with my hair?" he mumbled quietly.  
Cecil beamed. "You don't even have to ask," he purred happily, running his fingers through the soft, dark curls. He sighed and hummed as he listened to the scientist's breathing.  
Today may have been the worst day of Carlos' life, but Cecil certainly wasn't complaining.


End file.
